


Control

by kt_anansi



Series: Smutty Garcy Fics... [8]
Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Hand Jobs, Hate Sex, Oral Sex, Post 1x10, Sleeping with the enemy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 13:21:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19174132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kt_anansi/pseuds/kt_anansi
Summary: Written for: accidentallyfangirling.Number 48 was my own take on it.Prompts:28: Fuck or Die33: Hate Sex, Angry Sex48: Come-marking57: Rough Sex





	Control

 

The computer screen began to blacken. At least it looked like it was beginning to. Realizing it was merely her fatigue getting the better of her, Lucy rubbed her eyes. She had spent hours trying to find any mention of John Rittenhouse, to no avail. Lucy groaned as she felt her fatigue and hunger threaten to overtake her.

“Do you think either of my lovely kidnappers would be kind enough to get me food or something to drink?” She asked, half sarcastically and half seriously. As Karl walked out, she tried her luck. “Coffee would be great!”

He turned halfway, hand on the doorknob, “Don’t push it.” He threatened. Lucy swallowed her reply- she needed to eat, and somehow she knew Karl wouldn’t be as nice to her as Flynn was- even if nice was what you could call it.

About a half an hour later, Flynn came in instead. With a cup of coffee, and what Lucy prayed was a cinnamon roll, and not just a dream, or a poisoned pastry. Setting the items down in front of her, he smiled sardonically. When she hesitated, he bent closer, his face nearly touching hers. As he growled, “M’lady.” she felt a shiver slide up her spine. Not of fear or disgust. But a shiver of excitement. She turned away, reminding herself that she really needed to hate Flynn right now. After all, he had kidnapped her. “You should eat.” He growled again.

Lucy’s neck snapped toward him without her permission. “I hate you,” she seethed in a low, firm whisper. Allowing her eyes to burn into his. For a moment, Lucy thought she saw the eyes of a wounded man, and they were just as quickly gone- replaced by hazel slats that gave nothing away. As a rule, Garcia Flynn gave nothing away and usually he took no prisoners, clearly, she was an exception. He stood staring at the Mother ship before him, his jaw firm, and lips set in a straight line. He didn’t look at Lucy again. “Drink, before your coffee gets cold.”

With that, he walked to the door and exited.

Much to Lucy’s delight, the coffee was just the way she liked it. She usually took two sugars, and a splash of cream. And there it was. Exactly the way she remembered it. She stared at the cup, puzzled. She pulled a piece of the cinnamon roll off, it too was still warm, but just barely. She ate it slowly, savoring it. She had decided not to wonder too hard about where Flynn had gotten it. Maybe he threatened a baker in town to give it to him. Or maybe he just bought it. Lucy laughed to herself, the idea of Flynn just buying something, like a normal person and not an evil arch nemesis was amusing.

Usually, the guards were forcing her to stay in her chair. But, Gerald, the one with the big neck, would let her walk around the chapel. She told him it allowed her to stay awake enough to work on finding their target- really she was using the walk to try to plot an escape. She had seen a town a few miles from their location out the window, but Gerald had moved her once he noticed her lingering too long. Just her luck. An hour passed, she was at the computer again, wasting time on the lost cause once again.

Flynn was back, this time with Karl and Anthony in tow.

“Where are you going?” Lucy asked as they got in the mothership one by one.

“Out.” He said, flashing her a rather charming smile- looking about the room, Flynn remarked, “I have to get a present for the woman who hates me. I hope she likes it.”

“Just make sure it isn’t a dead animal.” She bit back. “I know that’s what sociopaths are into.” She yelled. She could have sworn she heard him yell. “Lucy, you wound me!” But with the door closing on him, she couldn’t be sure. The machine whirred and made papers fly, and then it was gone.

Within minutes, he was back. Getting out of the time machine, Flynn had a red dress in his hands.

He stepped forward and put it on the desk. “Karl will help you get dressed. Anthony will keep an eye out.”

“I don’t need help,” Lucy said. Truth was, she didn’t trust anyone here.

“Okay, let me rephrase. Karl will guard you, so you don’t run away, Lucy.”

“No,” Lucy said. “No offense, Karl. But, Flynn, I don’t know him. And I have learned one thing doing this job, I won’t be vulnerable around anyone I don’t know.”

“Fine,” Emma said, turning on her heel and walking out before Flynn could even respond. Flynn looked at Gerald, Anthony, and Karl.

“Get out.” He said flatly. They scattered like rats exposed to light.

Lucy and Flynn stared at one another for a long moment. Still angry, Lucy, longed for the feeling of clean clothes on her skin. Flynn raised his eyebrows and gestured to the dress. “Well,” he said. “Get dressed.”

“With you in here?” Lucy almost laughed. Suddenly feeling a heat that wasn’t hatred in her stomach, and elsewhere. “No, not happening.”

“Fine, I’ll turn around. But, if you get too quiet I will have to make sure you aren’t trying to climb out the window.” He said an air of finality in his voice.

As Lucy took off her dirty underdress from 1775 and as she got dressed she realized she could use this to her advantage. If she just got him close enough to try to take him out. She might have to get creative, but she was sure it was possible. The corset gave her an idea.

“Flynn.” She said meekly. “Can you help me?” She lifted up the corset. It was supposed to tie from the front, but would still be impossible to manage without help. He rolled his eyes but walked forward. She was in her underdress, but, somehow it still seemed very intimate. Lifting her arms up, she directed him.

“Just put it around me.” She said. When he tried to wrap it around in the wrong spot on her waist, she grabbed his wrists and moved them down. At her touch, his eyes snapped from the corner of the room (no doubt that was why he was getting it wrong, because he wasn’t even looking at her) to her face, then to her chest. And back again the floor. Of course, Lucy thought to herself. He was but a man, after all.

“Okay,” She said softly, her voice breathy, she could feel the heat of him near her, and it made her a little dizzy. “Now, if you could just lace the front.” She handed him the strings.

He tried to speak and then coughed. “There is no way you can possibly do this?” He asked, his voice a little raw. She just shook her head slowly, making eye contact. The truth was she could do it herself, but this was her way out. Slowly, he laced up the corset, occasionally he would accidentally brush her breast with a finger here or there, each time, Lucy felt a shiver threaten her. Once it was laced he let go, and made to step back.

Lucy grabbed his hands, and put them back, “Tie it.” She commanded. Flynn’s eyes squinted suspiciously. She was losing him. “Please.” She asked. Trying to be polite. As he pulled the strings tight, he kept eye contact. His movements would jerk her forward slightly, as he repeatedly tried to tighten the corset. “This would be easier from behind.” He said. Could he possibly be completely ignorant of how sexual that sounded?

As he continued, She couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to have his naked body thrusting against her. She felt herself blush.

“C’ mon, I didn’t pull that hard.” He said. “No need to be breathless.”

Lucy realized she wasn’t breathing, she had been staring at his neck, lips parted thinking about sucking on it. She swallowed hard, her throat dry. Lucy breathed in steadily- trying to gather herself. Perhaps, her plan was backfiring. Maybe instead of trying to catch him off guard, she was just getting herself into a fit of frustration. She looked up to find Flynn staring at her, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip, and then perching behind said lips again.

“Fashion through the ages isn’t kind to women, it seems. I can imagine these dresses are a pain,” surely, he was trying to dissipate the steam that seemed to be building between the two of them. He tied the bow as he spoke. “But, I think you’ll-”

“You’re a pain.” She said.

“A little late for that dig, Lucy.” He said, eyes narrowing again, but his mouth showed that he was amused. He had finished lacing and tying the corset, and would soon become aware of his gaze lingering. However, before he could walk away, Lucy grabbed the collar of his suit and pulled him down fast. It took her a moment to realize that his lips were on hers. That wasn’t the plan. She was going to distract him, and kick him in the groin- and get away, but her body seemed to have a mind of its own.

They were kissing. It was fast, her tongue like a dagger in his mouth. She could feel his hands against her breasts. She brought her hands around the back of his neck and pulled him closer to her. His hands had no choice but to move, down her breasts, around her abdomen, and to her waist. She wondered if he was responding on instinct or willfully. She didn’t care. After all, he had kidnapped her. Flynn pulled her closer, his hands strong against her. Lucy dug her nails into his back and raked her teeth over his neck. She marked him.

“Ah! Lucy...” He said. “And here I thought you hated me.”

“I do.” she murmured, nipping at his pulse point, decidedly using fewer teeth for a moment. “I was biting you, after all.”

“True...” He said, weighing the validity of that statement.

Lucy suddenly became aware that Flynn had one of her legs in his hand it was pulled up against his hip, as they kissed ferociously. She lowered her hands, deciding heavy petting wasn’t going to be enough. If she was going to be his prisoner, she would at least have control of the situation she decided. She grabbed his belt and unbuckled it, jostling him purposefully.

“Lucy, you don’t have to-” He said, voice too tender for her hear at that moment.

“Fuck me.” She commanded. Her hand diving into his pants, as she pulled him out, he was hot and warm, hard and ready. “Now, of course only if you-”

“Shut up.” He said, repressing a smile. Maybe asking permission would ruin the whole hate-sex thing, Lucy wondered. But he kissed her strong, like a force of nature. Pulling her legs up, he took her to the desk. He put her on it, his movements rough and unapologetic. Hiking up her skirt, he made a move as if to check for her underwear. He seemed surprised when he didn’t find any. He found her center warm, waiting and ready. He took some of her moisture and brought it up to her clit, her body jolted under his touch. He was the perfect height to fuck her like this, on the table- and god did he want to. But he wanted to avoid the mess he would make, so instead, he slid his fingers inside her. Lucy’s eyes rolled in their sockets at the sensation.

Using his fingers to fuck her, and his palm to tease her clit, he worked her. His movements were desperate and wanting. He loved seeing her writhe in pleasure- even if she claimed to hate him. She was thrusting against him, the rhythm fast and rough- panting as if she would die if she didn’t come soon. All the while, he held the small of Lucy’s back with his other hand. In part to steady her, in part to create more tension. She was clawing at his neck again. The pain was euphoric.

Their movements were shaking the table, and Lucy’s moaning was more noise than Flynn would have liked. He figured that fucking his prisoner really didn’t set the best precedent with his henchmen- regardless of whether or not she wanted it or initiated it- so, he kissed Lucy to quiet her. Her breathing became harder and more erratic, he could feel her closing around his fingers. He applied greater pressure to her clit, and that sent her over the edge. As she finished, she bit his lip. Everything about it was so hot, he almost couldn’t help himself.

She settled down, her breathing labored, but steady. “Aren’t you going to?” She asked. Looking longingly at his open trousers.

“I don’t want the mess.” He said. “and you probably don’t want to get pregnant.”

“Is that what this is about?” She said. Visibly offended. Flynn wasn’t sure if she realized he meant literal mess- or if she was offended about him making decisions about her fertility. “Fine.” She said, “But you’re coming, too.”

Within  moments, she was on her knees, she had taken him fully in her mouth. It felt good. Very good. He couldn't help the deep growl of a moan that escaped him. She toyed with him by breathing heat onto his balls and teasing under his shaft with her tongue. Due to being out of practice, he found that he was ready to blow faster than he would have wanted. He grabbed the chair that was next to him to steady himself. With his other hand, he tried to slow her down, he didn’t want to finish in her mouth- that was hardly the gentlemanly thing to do. Then again, kidnapping her was hardly the gentlemanly thing to do either.

Lucy either didn’t notice him or didn’t care. Not wanting anyone to come in, he didn’t say anything. She worked him faster and faster until the pressure was killing him. The heat, the pressure, her lips on him. Everything, it was too much. Any hope he had of holding off was gone when she flicked her tongue over his head, he felt himself shoot into her. Lucy swallowed hard against him.

Surely, that must have been a reflex, he thought to himself, but she wasn’t gagging- he thought he heard a hum of delight from her, but his own ears were buzzing from the increased blood flow in his brain (as the heat makes blood rush everywhere), and he was distracted by the pleasurable throbbing he felt below. He took a moment to steady himself.

“I’m sorry.” He said, ashamed.

“For what?” She asked. She rose up, wiping the side of her mouth off, and licking her finger. She looked at him as if she had bested him at some sport. “See, no mess.” She said, hands open, as if in surrender. Slowly, and with confidence, she put on the outer part of her dress.

“Pull your pants up, Flynn.” She said as she walked to the Mothership.


End file.
